Freeing Rowan (Masters Club 3)

But the thought of allowing some stranger to strike her with a whippy cane held zero appeal. She blew out a breath, reminding herself she’d only come to watch, after all. To dip her toe in the waters.

She needed to give herself a break. After all, it had only been a week since she’d escaped. She’d taken the first step, and she wasn’t sorry she was there. The night was still young. Who knew, maybe she was ready for a scene, albeit something tamer than a caning. Maybe all she needed was the right guy to tap her shoulder. Perhaps then she’d find the courage to take the next step.

“Are you just going to watch all night?” a warm, familiar voice asked from just behind her. “Or could I interest you in a scene?”

Chapter 18

It had taken every ounce of self-control not to throw himself between Rowan and the guys who hit on her as she moved slowly from station to station. He’d seen the tension in her body when the younger guy had put his hand on her, and the sudden alarm on her face as she’d pulled away from him.

Eric’s immediate instinct had been to intervene at once. She might think he’d been spying on her, which, he supposed, he was. And to do so would have been to deny her the chance to handle the situation on her own. To his relief, she had proven herself capable of doing just that.

Even so, it had been hard to stay on the sidelines for as long as he had. This new feeling of jealousy was foreign to him. What right did he have to be jealous? She didn’t belong to him, after all.

Not yet.

Now he drank in the sight of her, his cock hardening with appreciation. She looked breathtakingly lovely in the corset and heels. The hint of white lace peeking from beneath the corset only added to the allure. He longed to untie that thick satin ribbon and tear the outfit from her body.

He’d watched with increasing impatience as she moved from station to station. Eventually, she’d made her way toward the back of the club. Not willing to lose sight of her, he’d stepped out from the alcove and moved closer, though still keeping his distance.

She had stopped in front of a caning—a serious one by the sound of it. Before he could stop himself, a fantasy of Rowan tethered by the wrists to a ceiling beam filled his mind. He moved around her, snapping a whistling cane over that pert ass, those lovely breasts as she begged him to stop, to never stop, please, please, please…

Now she turned toward him, her mouth falling open. “Eric!” she cried softly.

“Hey there.” He smiled, his heart lifting as she smiled back. “It’s great to see you again.”

“You, too.” Her smile faltered. “How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. Just a lucky coincidence.”

She blushed suddenly, her cheeks going rosy. “I probably should have told you I was coming tonight. I just…I thought I would just see what it was like, you know, on my own.”

“Of course,” he replied easily. “You didn’t need to tell me. You’re your own person.”

She nodded, lifting her chin in a determined way. “Yes. Thank you for reminding me.”

“Want to get a drink at the juice bar? We can catch up a little bit,” Eric suggested, forcing himself to go slow. No way was he going to come on like a ton of bricks, as he suspected those she’d rejected before him had done.

“Juice bar?” she asked, looking around.

“It’s up by the front, kind of hidden away. I’ll show you.”

As they approached the front of the club, Olivia suddenly barreled down on them. “There you are. She’s here! Kristen is here, and she came alone. I can’t wait to introduce—oh.” She cut herself off as she noticed Rowan by Eric’s side. “Unless you’re otherwise engaged.” She frowned, as if Eric should have gotten her permission first.

“Olivia, this is Rowan,” Eric said firmly, silently willing Olivia to back off. He now had zero interest in meeting Kristin or anyone else. “A friend of mine. We’re going to have a drink at the juice bar.”

Olivia took a moment to process this, but then smiled a gracious smile as she managed to shift gears. “A pleasure to meet you, Rowan. Is this your first time at Salome’s?”

“Yes. I’m so glad Eric recommended this place. It’s definitely a cut above anywhere else I’ve been in the city. Really first class.”

Olivia beamed at this praise, apparently mollified. “Okay, then. Have fun.” To Eric, she added, “The new bondage sling will be available in about fifteen minutes, if you two want to take the next slot.”

“Thanks,” Eric said. “We just might.”

As they sipped sparkling grapefruit soda, they exchanged small talk about Rowan’s upcoming show, a new piece Eric was working on in his shop, her bartending gig and other mundane topics. As they talked, Eric gently probed Rowan as to how she was doing. Just the fact she’d come out to a BDSM club on her own was clearly a sign she was recovering from her ordeal.